


Our So-Called Life After Hydra (Pt. II of II)

by fandommkopf, GraphiteWrites



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bar Buddies, Canon Compliant, Canon May Joss This, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Gen, Gun Kink, I Will Go Down With This Ship, MCU Spoilers, MCU mostly, Movie Spoilers, PWP, SHIELD, Sam Wilson & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Sassy Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Walk Into A Bar, Wall Sex, blushing Natasha Romanov, ca: tws spoilers, clueless Sam Wilson, kind of, otp, post-mission adrenaline sex, soviet soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:38:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandommkopf/pseuds/fandommkopf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraphiteWrites/pseuds/GraphiteWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nat remembers the last mission she had with Barnes at Steve's teasing and finds herself shifting uncomfortably in her seat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our So-Called Life After Hydra (Pt. II of II)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Co-credit to fandommkopf as this is Part II (read Part I here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1537319 ) of little pieces that were sparked by one of our many late-night MCU fandom discussions. We do that a lot. Expect more from us.  
> She handles the Steve/Sharon bits of things and I delve into the Bucky/Nat. It's a good relationship.
> 
> This is definitely MCU based, just with smatterings of comic references here and there from the both of us.
> 
> Standard disclaimer: if I owned Nat or, heaven forbid, Bucky Barnes... well... we won't go there.

It’s been a few more months since the last time they met in this bar, this corner. This place has really become “their bar,” the three of them finding each other here each time they’re all around. Nat manages to get back after another exhaustive trip weeding out more of HYDRA’s low-rung men. Now that they have Barnes back (not to mention on their side), they have more insight to how they were operating.

She sits in her usual spot, out of direct light, finishing her first beer when Sam walks in and takes a seat next to her on the corner. The bartender, recognizing them by now, brings Nat a fresh pint and set one down in front of Sam. He takes one long, slow drink before grinning like an idiot and launching into hellos. Steve comes ambling in a little later than usual, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the other side of the corner next to Sam. A pint of his own is quickly sat in front of him. 

This time around is slightly more relaxed than the last and they quickly catch up on the comings and goings of each other. There’s plenty of banter and teasing over a round of messy nachos. The laughter dies down and a third round of drinks is brought over. Steve doesn't forget the last time they were here, Nat cleverly taunting his ventures with Sharon.

“Oh, hey, Nat. I meant to ask since I haven’t been around much. How’s Barnes doing with his _missions_?” He looks at her rather pointedly, one eyebrow arching and his lips quirking in a smart smirk. Sam draws his eyebrows together in slight confusion, having the sneaking suspicion that he’s totally out of the loop.

Imperceptibly, she tenses and freezes. Only these two, who know her so well (and maybe one other person) would notice it. She just stares at him like a deer in headlights remembering the events of a few week ago with a vividness that hits her like a truck.

* * *

 It had been a rough end to what was supposed to be an easy mission. James was still under a probation of sorts with Fury. She'd been sent with him as a glorified babysitter, to be a critical eye on their last job before he goes up for evaluation. Before the Winter Soldier is let loose on his own an as agent of the new SHIELD. As the months had gone by since finding him, James had been regaining his memories, both old and ugly, as well as himself. Bits and pieces of "Bucky" were known to show through that wall he'd built up. He wasn't proud, or happy, of the things HYDRA had made him do, and it showed. But Nat was finally seeing the "Bucky" that Steve would always talk about; the arrogant, charming Howling Commando that kept Steve on his feet for so long growing up. James was cracking more jokes and laughing occasionally at inappropriate times.

This slip-up, this kink in his last mission, wasn't his fault. Somehow, the enemy had caught onto them and doubled up security and actually taken both master assassins by surprise. It wasn't a difficult fight, bullets flying through the air, both of them taking lives under fire like it was second nature. Of course it was, it was what both of them were made to do. They worked so well together it was hard to believe they were the good guys. Well, most days they were.

With intel in hand, they had made their way back to their seedy, dark, low-profile motel room with the double beds and terrible wall paper. They'd be gone at first light, but they needed a few hours of decent rest before heading back to the hub. Nat pulled the thumb drive from one of her pouches before stripping off her belt entirely. Next came her thigh holsters.

From the corner of her eye, she watched James peel the jacket from his shoulders, exposing the metal of his left arm, glinting in the parking lot lights filtering through the blinds. She watched him bend over to unbuckle his boots and took a deep breath. Her eyes followed the curve of his ass and up the expanse of his back, watching his muscles roll beneath his tank with each movement. It was then that he caught her looking. It dawned on her that he'd been looking as well, as she had removed each thigh holster and then slowly unwrapped her Bites from her wrists. Their eyes met and she froze. This wasn't like her. Not at all.

She stiffened as he slowly straightened turning to face her and squaring his shoulders. He took a couple steps toward her, bare feet silent on the scratchy carpet, his eyes never leaving hers. The closer he got, the hotter his gaze felt and the more trouble she had keeping her breathing even. Her blood started rushing in her ears. He was barely a breath away now, looking down at her from around the long hair in his face. Suddenly, she heard the gun fire again, felt the heat of her own firearm in her hands and her heart was racing again.

He could see it in her eyes, the sudden rush of adrenaline returning to her as she remembered their earlier battle and his eyes widened just slightly as they focused on her and that was it. He was bearing down on her, right hand gripping her neck hard through her hair and crushing her mouth with a brutal force.

She tried to suck in a breath and nearly choked. His grip on her neck was harsh, forcing her to him and she stumbled that last half a step forward. His tongue forced her mouth open and made an expert, sweeping gesture as his hard metal arm circled her waist and supported her fumble. The grip he had around her was almost painful. She didn’t know what she was doing until it was too late. She was relaxing in his strong grip, making her mouth pliable and shoving her tongue back at him.

Her hands still burned with the memory of fired shots and her right one found purchase on his cool shoulder, fingernails catching and hooking in the panel seams. Her left shot up to his head to scrape her nails across his scalp and claim a fistful of hair. She hissed in a breath through her nose and her chest pushed against his in the close quarters. Somewhere in her mind, she was aware of the growl she heard roll up through his chest and spill between her lips. Her skin began to burn with an altogether different kind of heat. This heat started in her gut and spread like a wildfire through her body to her toes and fingertips.

James began to walk them backwards towards a wall, any wall. If he squeezed her any tighter, she’d break. He didn’t want to hurt her; he just wanted to use her. He couldn’t pinpoint why he had felt such an overwhelming urge to kiss her, but it was sudden and powerful and now that he’d gone this far he wanted it all. He needed it all. He needed to touch her, to feel her, to feel _something_ normal. His life now was still a series of alien moments where he sometimes didn’t believe he was there, but she helped ground him. This kept his mind from reeling too much.

Her back hit the wall and she knew it was over. James stepped back just far enough to run his hot, flesh hand down her neck, across her exposed collarbone and down her open catsuit between her breasts. His finger hooked the zipper and pulled it to the stop just below her belly button. He only looked into her eyes for a second; the memory of killing gone from them. His right hand moved back up, pushing her head to the side to expose her long neck to his hot, open kisses, stopping to draw her pulse into his mouth. That metal arm he’d grown so accustomed to left her back to push her flat against the wall, fingers long and splayed wide across her stomach.

She couldn’t help but gasp audibly when his cold hand met her bare skin. Her hand was still tangled tightly in his hair, keeping his lips against her neck. His mouth was distracting, but she could feel his other hand sliding smoothly along her waist under her suit, circling to her lower back and finally to grasp her bare ass tightly. He drew her hips forward to crush against his, grinding them together to make her painfully aware of his current state of discomfort. She did more than gasp. She let out a moan long and low, right next to his ear.

He was done. No more playing. His metal hand came back around to dive down the last bit of her suit to find her pleasantly slick. He didn’t waste any time. Two fingers went in while his thumb was busy dancing circles and she was a mess in his strong hands.

It was a shock that sent her eyes flying open wide, those smooth and cold fingers suddenly inside the hottest part of her body. It was almost painful and she loved it. Her hands her white-knuckled, one gripping that expert arm around his bicep just below that bright red star. The other was pulling on his hair so hard his face peeled away from her neck. As his fingers moved at a quick pace, she looked at his face with her mouth open in wordless awe, her hips trying to move with him and failing.

His face melted into a dangerous smile as he slowly pulled his finger free, the metal shining a little brighter in the dim light. He felt her fingers unbuckling his belt and the sound of his zipper filled his ears for a moment. She grabbed him tight and he almost cried out. He reached down and ripped the seam of her suit, exposing her and worming his way between her legs. Both his hands smooth back over her ass before grabbing a firm handful and lifting. She met him half way and he slid home hard.

They were still for a moment, adjusting to each other, both their eyes wide and locked onto each other. His knees bent and he supported her by her hips, shoving her shoulder blades into the thin sliver of wall behind her. Her slender, powerful hands came up and curled tightly around the holster still hugging his chest and shoulders. She pulled him back to her roughly, crashing her open mouth to his in a violent kiss.

His movements showed no mercy. He was fast and hard and she met him stroke for stroke, keeping her ankles locked tight at his back. Her breathing was already ragged and harsh and she could feel his rhythm faltering just so. She could hear the groaning of the wooden doorjamb to the bathroom; his hand was gripping it tightly as he used it for leverage to crash his pelvis up into hers. It was over a sudden as it began, hitting that spot within seconds of each other. Her mouth tore away from his only to clamp onto his flesh shoulder hard, covering any loud cry that wanted to leave her. His grip on her tightened dangerously, his silver fingers easily marking her with bruises blossoming in the morning. She heard him exhale violently and a deep growl as he stilled and they didn’t move for several minutes, just staying in a heap of spent skin and bones against a sliver of wall.

* * *

 

 “Yeah. Barnes. He’s doing well. _Really_ well. On his missions.” She hides behind her beer, taking a long drink and draining the glass. She tries her damnedest not to blush, but she can’t help but shift in her seat a little.

Sam’s eyes grow big as saucers as the pieces fall into place for him. He looks back and forth between his friends, wordlessly gaping.

Steve lets out a loud, happy laugh, clapping Sam on the shoulder a little hard. “I’ll just bet he is, Nat.”


End file.
